


A Coffee Scented Crush

by V_V_lala



Category: She Keeps Me Warm - Mary Lambert (Music Video)
Genre: Coffee Shop, Crush, F/F, watching from afar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/V_V_lala/pseuds/V_V_lala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kris hasn't been able to get Becka out of head ever since the girl first stepped into the coffee shop where Kris works. But Kris just can't get the nerve up to ask her out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Coffee Scented Crush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yue_ix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yue_ix/gifts).



“Kris, we’re out of half-and-half, could you…Kris? Kris. Earth to Kristin!” David waves his hand in front of her face and Kris finally snaps out of her stupor. 

“What?”

“We need more.” He holds up the empty milk carton.

Kristin groans. “Can’t you get it?”

“Nope, I’m doing tables.” He gives her a long hard look and rolls his eyes.

“Fine, fine. Jesus Christ.” Kristin stalks to the back and gets the milk. She grabs a few other things to restock with, loading them all up into her arms. She promises herself she’ll keep her head in the game and not drop all of them once she emerges again. This is getting impossible. 

Carefully, she makes her way back from the storage room into the coffee shop and begins to restock. It is the middle of the day and slow. The place is far enough from campus to not be overrun by caffeine-starved college students and yet still close enough to scare away most full-fledged adults. During morning and evening rush hours it gets busy, but for the most part it is a slow place. It used to bother Kris. She had nothing to do but talk to whoever else was on shift. That was fine, but, unless it was David, the time seemed to drag on. 

Now she is glad for the time when she can _pretend_ to be working instead of actually working. Ever since Becka started coming in at the beginning of the year. Kris still remembers the first time she’d come, along with the morning rush hour, ordered an Americano and disappeared into the crowd. Kris had been caught on the girl’s eyes and cherry lipstick. She’d looked down at the name she’d written on the cup, mouthed it slowly to herself, feeling how it rolled off her tongue. The next customer in line cleared his throat and Kris was forced to return to the monotonous routine of taking a never-ending row of orders. 

She did not see Becka for the rest of the week and decided it wasn’t worth fantasizing about. All sorts of pretty girls came through the shop at one time or another. They came and went and for all Kris knew, this Becka had a boyfriend. 

But then she showed up again, this time in the afternoon, with a book, right before Kris’ shift ended. David had offered to take over since she had already started taking off her apron, but Kris pushed him aside and went to take Becka’s order. She had wanted, desperately, to say something sweet or funny. All she managed was “can I take your order” and “thank you.”

Ever since then, Becka has been coming by almost every afternoon, so Kris tries to get the afternoon shifts. She even planned her spring semester schedule so as to have classes in the morning. It is strange how hung up she has gotten over a girl she doesn’t really know. Although she has noticed some things: that Becka loves to read – comes in with a new book every other week – that her best friends are a couple, that she goes to the same school as Kris but probably has a much more developed social life, and, most significantly, she likes girls. 

She’d overheard Becka talking about an ex-girlfriend while cleaning tables and now all Kris can think about is how to get up the courage to finally talk to this girl. She can spend hours fantasizing about Becka and her curvy hips and breasts, the fullness of her lisps… But they only ever see each other when Kris is at work and it would be unprofessional. Well, at least that is what she tells David. 

“Ask her out already.”

“Shut your gob, David.”

He sticks his tongue out at her and smacks her in the ass with the towel he is carrying. 

“You done with those tables?” 

“Ah-ha. My shift’s done.” He starts to undue the knot on his apron. 

Kris looks over her shoulder to where Becka is sitting now, in the usual place. She is with her friends today and the guy keeps looking over at them. Kris wonders if they are talking about her. For some reason, the thought makes her blush. 

“Are you _sure_ you don’t want to come to Ashton’s party tonight? He’d love to have you.”

Kris leans against the counter and gives her friend a look. “I love your boyfriend, I really do. But you know I’m not much of a party person.” 

David shrugs. “Fine. Suit yourself.” He picks up his jacket and waves a goodbye at her. _Finally._ Now she can throw surreptitious looks at Becka for the rest of her shift in peace. 

But when Kris turns around, the readhead is gone. She sighs and picks up a rag to go and clean up after the group. When she gets there, she realizes Becka has forgotten her book. Charles Dickens. _Not exactly a joy read,_ Kris thinks. She opens it slowly, entranced by the idea that this is the closest she’d ever come to Becka. Her eyes roam over the page, maybe for a phone number or something. It is a long shot, and she would never take advantage of it anyway but— Her eyes lock onto the sticky note in the corner, the thin lines of the words hastily written on it. _She thinks I’m cute._

Kris looks over her shoulder, almost as though expecting someone to be standing there, grinning, ready to say “just kidding.” Maybe…maybe Becka hadn’t intended the note for her at all. But it was a nice thought. Kris takes the book back into their small, generally empty lost-and-found. She’s on shift all day so she’ll keep an eye on it. 

Becka comes in an hour later, just as the evening rush picks up. She’s dressed up with her hair done and her cherry lipstick renewed. Kris hands her the book when she asks for it and smiles. “You look nice,” she manages to say. 

“Thanks.” Becka blushes just slightly. “There’s a party tonight.”

“Oh? On campus?” Why did she ask that?

“Close. Are you looking to go to a party?” Becka twirls a strand of her hair absentmindedly and Kris tries very hard to not chew on her lip like she usually does when she’s nervous. 

“Um, maybe.” 

Becka writes down the address for her. “Thanks for the book. It was sweet of you to keep it safe for me.” 

Kris watches Becka walk out the glass doors, appreciating the way her hips sway as she walks. She looks down at the note with the address and rolls her eyes. It’s Ashton’s stupid party. Oh, David will never let her live this down. 

Kris doesn’t know it yet, but in three hours she will be walking into a crowded room and picking up a drink, hoping the alcohol will give her a hand in this. In five hours, she will be in a cab with Becka, holding hands and feeling her stomach flip flop. In six hours, she will be making out on a rooftop with the most beautiful girl in the world just as the sun begins to rise. 

And the next day, before she leaves work to go on a date with her new girlfriend, David will tell her that he’d asked Ashton to get Becka’s friends to put her up to leaving the note and mentioning the party. And grudgingly, she’ll have to thank him. 

But all of that is still in the future. For now, Kris just has hope. Just enough of it to get her through the evening rush.


End file.
